


the waves come after midnight

by Suicix



Category: GOT7
Genre: Alternate Universe, Ambiguous Relationships, Choi Youngjae-centric, Established Im Jaebum | JB/Park Jinyoung | Jr., Hopeful Ending, Implied/Referenced Sex, Introspection, Light Angst, M/M, Miscommunication, Multi, Summer Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-06
Updated: 2017-07-06
Packaged: 2018-11-28 14:56:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11420349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Suicix/pseuds/Suicix
Summary: The job was an experience and Seoul was an experience and Jaebum and Jinyoung were perhaps the greatest experience of all, but that’s all they’ll ever be. One exciting summer, all green and blue and black and silver, a kaleidoscope of colours that Youngjae will never be able to touch again – that will one day fade away. (Or, so he thinks.)





	the waves come after midnight

**Author's Note:**

> FINALLY i've had an idea for this ship that is of Actual Substance rather than just...... porn [vaguely gestures to my one other fic of them as well as an as yet unwritten idea that's been in my head for months]. this is also probably one of my favourite things i have written - i hope you enjoy it, too!

The seafront is lit up by the glow of both street lamps and the moon, and Youngjae breathes in the salt of the ocean as it hangs heavy in the air. He’s missed this. He’s missed this, and while it’s such a small part of what he’s missed about home, it seems to encompass everything he’s been missing at the same time. The sea breeze is what he grew up with: he can’t imagine a life without it. It’s as much a part of him as his voice or his laugh or the mole underneath his eye.

Youngjae looks out at the water, though there isn’t much to see in the darkness. The light of the moon shimmers at the crests of the gentle waves that are starting to build up into something more: the tide’s coming in. He lets his eyes fall shut, like he thinks it’s going to amplify the noise of the waves. It’s so _quiet_ out here, a quiet that feels almost deafening after the rush and buzz of Seoul. It should probably be calming instead – it’s what he’s used to, what he _knows_ – but really, since he’s been back here, he’s been feeling lonely.

It was inevitable, he supposes. Inevitable after the summer and Jaebum and Jinyoung and being allowed to be a part of them, being allowed to have some of their love for himself. Here, he has his family, and while nothing can compare to that, while it’s nice to catch up with the handful of childhood friends who still live in and around Mokpo, what he had this summer was – something else. Something indescribable, something that Youngjae’s always going to be reminded of when he sees strawberry milk on sale in a store or when someone’s eyes crinkle at the corners or-or-or so many other little things, too many to even begin to count. There’ll be a time, Youngjae knows, when he’ll start to forget and let go and drift far, far away – when none of those things will matter all that much anymore – but simultaneously, there’s the fact that sometimes, he’ll have to remember. He’ll hear a song that Jinyoung or Jaebum particularly liked, or one of the hits of that summer, and his mind will flash back to afternoons in parks and cafés, nights in bars and Jaebum and Jinyoung’s apartment.

Now, Youngjae can picture all of that so clearly. The way the sunlight would catch on a tree’s leaves as they sat on the grass, strong and warm on their skin. The table in the corner of Jinyoung’s favourite coffee shop and the rich scent of the food and drinks. The clink of glasses before downing a shot and Jaebum’s flushed face and wide grin as he slung an arm around Youngjae’s shoulder. The cushions on the couch in Jaebum and Jinyoung’s living room and the pile of clothes on their bedroom floor that sometimes included some of Youngjae’s. They might still have a t-shirt or a sock, in fact: a part of him he’ll never get to see again, as insignificant a part of him as it is. Was, because it’s a part of Jinyoung and Jaebum now – an odd sock lingering at the bottom of a drawer or a shirt that neither of them bought but still wear occasionally when it’s the first clean thing they find.

Thinking about it like that makes Youngjae wish he had something like that, a physical reminder of it all. Something more permanent than the bruises Jinyoung liked to leave on Youngjae’s collarbones with his mouth or receipts for three orders of coffee that are just taking up space in Youngjae’s wallet until he throws them out.

He opens his eyes. He wasn’t expecting anything other than the darkness, but he still finds himself disappointed by it. Really, he shouldn’t feel like this and he knows it: as inevitable as the loneliness is, what he had with the two of them ending was even more so. There’s no way it could have lasted, no way that he could have ever been anything more than just an accessory, a summer fling, a definite third. They already have each other. They don’t need him there as well, hanging on, clinging to them, a stranger to not only all their friends but to the city itself, too. They don’t need him.

Still, it was an experience. The job was an experience and Seoul was an experience and Jaebum and Jinyoung were perhaps the greatest experience of all, but that’s all they’ll ever be. One exciting summer, all green and blue and black and silver, a kaleidoscope of colours that Youngjae will never be able to touch again – that will one day fade away.

All he can see right now is the dim glow of the streetlights, hardly any light to actually be seen, and he knows that that’s how his memories will end up one day, knows he’ll be like that to Jinyoung and Jaebum even sooner. Maybe there’ll be more Youngjaes in their life together, an endless cycle of disposable summer lovers, all of them gone by the middle of August. The possibility of that makes Youngjae’s heart sink faster than a heavy stone in the ocean, but he’ll try not to let it get him down.

After all, he left before they could tell him to leave. Which, of course they were going to do, because who even keeps someone around like that? Who would even think to make something like that permanent?

(Youngjae’s thought of it, and on more than one occasion. He thought of it in some of the very simplest moments, ordinary ones that felt like so much more than that. A simple trip to a convenience store, Jaebum insisting on paying for snacks for all three of them. A night out at a club, the three of them on the dance floor, not knowing where each other ends or begins, lost to the sway of the music. Simply walking through the streets at night, casual touches to Youngjae’s arms and back and shoulders that meant more to him than they probably should have. Lazy mornings in Jaebum and Jinyoung’s bed, between them with last night’s sex still fresh on his mind and Jinyoung’s hand wandering down Youngjae’s chest. More times, more moments that Youngjae doesn’t care to think of because he’s trying to let go and move on and leave all of that behind.)

It was never going to be anything more than just that. It couldn’t be. It was what it was, and now it’s going to be washed away, just like the waves down below are going to carry away anything that crosses their path. Youngjae isn’t ready for that to happen – doesn’t have a schedule to tell him the exact minute when he’ll be at his highest or lowest like the tides do – but it’s what’s going to happen, what _has_ to happen. He’ll get over this and carry on as he’s supposed to, his head out of the clouds and screwed on properly. No letting himself get carried away like that again.

He fishes his phone out of his jacket pocket to check the time; the screen’s so bright in the dark that he has to squint. Ten after midnight: he should probably be getting back. It shouldn’t be strange, going to sleep in his own bed after only a few months away, but somehow, it’s been more difficult to fall asleep. He’s never found it hard before – always been out like a light, always wanted to stay in bed for as long as possible – but since coming back to his childhood bed, it has been. He mostly blames it on the sudden switch from a noisy metropolis to the quiet coast, as well as getting used to sleeping in a bigger bed than the one here, and won’t admit it at all that it’s because now, he’s always alone. That’s just how he lives now, how it’s going to be. Jaebum and Jinyoung were a luxury.

Youngjae stuffs his phone away and starts the walk back. It’s not long, but he goes slowly, hands deep in his pockets because of the slight chill in the air. (Hands deep in his pockets like all the memories of the summer will spill out and fly away from him if he takes them out.)

He opens the front door quietly and creeps up the stairs. If anyone else is still awake, he doesn’t want to deal with conversation. All he wants is to crawl into bed and fall asleep in the silence and pitch black. Hopefully, it’ll come easier than it has been.

 

 

For once in his life, Youngjae tries his best to fill his days. Where he’d previously be lazing around listening to music and playing video games, he’s running errands and sending off résumés. If he’s going to be living here again, he might as well contribute. Nothing he’ll get here will pay as much as what he did in Seoul, but the experience there will definitely count for something, a new addition to the sheets of paper he’s printing off that will make him look more impressive.

He tells himself he’s just being productive, trying to avoid having no real answers to the inevitable _so, what did you do with yourself today?_ questions his parents ask at dinner, but more than anything, it’s to keep his mind as clear of the summer as he can. This is his life now – this has _always_ been his life. And that’s fine.

 

 

There are phone calls. Youngjae doesn’t answer. What could Jaebum or Jinyoung even want from him? He’s already gone from their lives, their _life,_ singular, because it’s theirs to share. They can’t have anything to say to him. (Youngjae’s never been more grateful for the fact that neither Jinyoung or Jaebum like social media. It means scrolling through Instagram isn’t a complete nightmare. The camera roll on his phone, on the other hand, is. He’s not deleting the photos. He can’t quite bring himself to open the app and look at them in the first place.)

After a couple of weeks, there’s another call, and it’s from Seoul, but it isn’t Jaebum or Jinyoung or any other friends he made there. It’s the company he worked for, and they’d like to offer him a more permanent position, if he’d take it. It goes without saying that his family thinks he should.

Is that life really his, though? The city and its towering buildings and landmarks and nightlife. Is that really his to take? He finds himself thinking of Jinyoung, and for once, he doesn’t try to stop himself.

Jinhae to Seoul, all by himself. Youngjae knows his story, knows how he met Jaebum, knows how happy Jinyoung is there. Youngjae can’t have them and he knows that, but he can have the city, can have his own life there. He can meet more new people and he can work hard and he can make his family proud. He can do anything he wants to do.

A part of Youngjae doesn’t want to move back in to the apartment he lived in the first time around – he wants to start over fresh, not relive memories of Jaebum and Jinyoung helping him cook every time he steps into his kitchen – but he still checks if it’s available now, just because of the convenience and the cost.

It is. Youngjae’s brother helps him move, just like the first time. And, just like the first time, after his brother’s gone, Youngjae feels alone, even though the city’s less of a mystery now.

September’s just beginning: it’ll be his birthday in a couple of weeks (and Jinyoung’s five days after, but Youngjae won’t celebrate that, won’t even let himself think about it for a moment). The job starts at the end of the month, and until then, he’s just biding his time.

He plays games and he goes to karaoke by himself and he writes music when it comes to him, sitting down at his keyboard in the middle of the night because there’s a melody in his head that just won’t come out until he manages to work out what comes next. He tries new foods and new places to eat and frequents some of the ones he discovered before. So far, he hasn’t come across Jinyoung or Jaebum in any of them, and that’s good. That’s the one thing Youngjae hoped for after coming back here.

He’s in the line for coffee one afternoon; he’s been to this café before but not since July. Youngjae places his order and waits for his drink, taking it when it arrives on the counter, and he’s about to turn around, and–

“Choi Youngjae!” When Youngjae turns, he sees a stripy shirt and glasses that don’t actually need to be worn and pants that show off too much ankle. He opens his mouth (though he doesn’t know what to say), but Jinyoung continues before Youngjae can get any words out. “You left without saying goodbye.”

He looks – hurt. Youngjae’s chest automatically feels heavy with a shock of guilt. They… expected a goodbye?

“Oh,” is all Youngjae seems to be capable of in response. “I didn’t think I’d be coming back.”

“We tried to call,” Jinyoung says, and Youngjae _knows,_ knows the exact number of missed calls from both of them, “but you never picked up.”

“I’m sorry, hyung.” What else is there for him to say? Jinyoung frowns at him, but then nods, acknowledging.

“Would you like to come and sit with us?”

That wasn’t what Youngjae was expecting. He’d planned to just take his drink and go, maybe taking a detour through the park on his way back. This isn’t what Youngjae was expecting at all.

It’s a chance, though, isn’t it? A chance to have something more than just a summer.

“Sure,” he says, and he lets Jinyoung lead him over. They’ve got the corner table, just like they always prefer here, and even after a month, Youngjae still remembers so much, so much he tried to chase out of his head. Jaebum’s sitting there, tapping away at his phone, just as sharply handsome as Youngjae remembers, right down to the two moles over his left eye. He doesn’t look up until Jinyoung speaks.

“Look who I found, Jaebum-hyung.”

Jaebum looks. Within a fraction of a second, once he’s seemed to realise who’s standing in front of him, his eyes widen. He sets his phone down on the table.

“Youngjae-yah.” He really does look shocked, and somewhere underneath it, he also looks – relieved. Youngjae isn’t quite sure what to do with that.

“Yeah.” It’s awkward, hovering in front of the table like this. Jinyoung seems to notice, and he pulls out a chair for Youngjae before sitting down himself. Youngjae takes a seat, too, grateful for it: his knees feel weak, like he could give out at any moment. “It’s me.”

“We thought–” Jaebum looks away, like he thinks whatever he’s about to say is stupid. “We thought we lost you.”

“And I thought you wouldn’t want me anymore after a while,” Youngjae says. “My job was only temporary, too. I had to go home, so.” He shrugs, like that’s all there is to it. Like he wouldn’t have jumped at the idea of trying something long distance had it been suggested. He didn’t think that was anywhere within the realm of possibility, is the thing.

“But you’re here now.” Jinyoung’s voice and gaze are both piercing, eyes seeming magnified behind the glasses he’s wearing. “How come?”

“The company wanted me back,” Youngjae tells them. “It’s a good opportunity.” He lets his question – _do you want me back, too?_ – go unspoken.

They seem to hear it regardless.

“If you want,” Jaebum starts, slow, “you could come over tonight. For dinner?” There’s something uncertain about the way he says it, as if he doesn’t quite think it’s his place to ask Youngjae over after Youngjae left. Maybe it isn’t. Maybe Youngjae wasn’t right to go without telling them in the first place. Maybe he should have returned a call or two.

All of that was when he thought he wouldn’t be coming back, though. When he didn’t think returning to Seoul was a possibility, let alone reuniting with Jinyoung and Jaebum. If he wants, he can have more than just the city, more than just one summer that until this moment, he was still telling himself to forget.

“I’d like that,” he says, making sure he sounds like he means it, trying to erase any doubt still left on Jaebum’s face, letting himself be swept up and pulled along by their current all over again – this time, hopefully for good.

**Author's Note:**

> (they work it out. i don't think i'd have this universe going any other way.) thanks so so much for reading, everyone - you can also find me on tumblr @ vibetechs!!


End file.
